I feel sick. It was the hug I gave Pete. She saw him and turned it into this. I put my hands to my face and close my eyes. There is no peace.

I go into the kitchen. The house is in darkness; Mom and Reg are asleep. The light in the fridge blazes out at me when I open it. My body is thumping, my breath fast. I take out one of Reg’s beers and open it. I sit at the table and look out the glass door at the darkness. The shape of my reflection looks back at me. I stare at her, at myself, and take a long haul off the beer, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I finish quickly and am ready. I open my phone.

Breanne, I see, also put a pic on her Instagram of a fist, like a social justice “Fight the Power” fist that she is totally using the wrong way. It’s innocuous if you haven’t seen the story that will soon be erased.

There is a storm of responses, like rolling thunder, one after another after another. She is brave. She is transphobic. She’s ignorant. She’s right. That is disgusting. It’s PC bullshit. She’s the one who makes people uncomfortable. She’s a bitch. She’s got guts to speak out. LOVE YOU GIRL. U R BRAVE! THANKS FOR SHARING, BRII! STFD YOU IDIOT. STEVIE AND PETE KNOW EACH OTHER FROM OUTSIDE SCHOOL, YOU MORON. SHE’S FRIENDS WITH HIS KID. THAT GIRL IS FUCKING NUTS SHE FREAKED OUT ON A FIELD TRIP. SHE’S DOING ALL THOSE PRANKS. SHE’S A SLUT. YOU’RE A SLUT … On and on. I watch this unfurl before my eyes, my face burning up like it’s on fire.

Lottie. I need to talk to Lottie. I text her, not knowing if anything will come back. My heart is beating fast.

Hey I don’t know if you’ve seen that bs online but I’m sorry your family is getting caught up in this.

A few minutes pass. I stare at my phone, willing it to respond. There are ellipses. She’s thinking. Or maybe checking to see what I’m talking about. I wait. I wait.

Yeah I saw it.

Are you ok?

I’m fine

Maybe things are getting out of hand; maybe that’s why even my new friends have been keeping a distance. It’s like I’m peddling downhill, but it is good and scary and fast, and sometimes there are consequences, and maybe this is one of them. I wonder if I should reach out to Pete. Should I tell him? Warn him? But then I think about Lottie, and how she would hate for me to get more involved. Her tactic is always to lay low—not my strong suit.

I text Dee.

Hey did you see that shit